


'cause you and me (we're on the edge of the knife)

by aryastark_valarmorghulis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, First War with Voldemort, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Remus Lupin, Pining, Post-Hogwarts, Slow Dancing, Smoking, goodboylupin's RS Candy Hearts Challenge, minor Remus Lupin/Caradoc Dearborn, unrequited James Potter/Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29401083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryastark_valarmorghulis/pseuds/aryastark_valarmorghulis
Summary: Remus and Sirius have an honest conversation after James’ stag party.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 32
Kudos: 138
Collections: The Candy Hearts Challenge





	'cause you and me (we're on the edge of the knife)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my wonderful Beta [maraudorable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violentthunder/pseuds/maraudorable).  
> Written for the Candy Hearts challenge hosted by [goodboylupin](https://goodboylupin.tumblr.com/); my prompt was "Me & You".  
> Edit: please check out [this](https://mlim8.tumblr.com/post/643201614602223616/written-for-the-candy-hearts-challenge-hosted-by) amazing artwork by the talented [mlim8](https://mlim8.tumblr.com/), inspired by this fic ❤

It’s the uncertain hour when late night and early morning blur together, and the starless sky is a nebulous ceiling above Remus, the rolling hills surrounding him shrouded in a damp, padded darkness that conceals the apple tree and Sirius’ motorcycle parked under it. 

All Remus can see is the stone balcony railing, shiny with drizzle, and the orange butt of his cigarette, white puffs of smoke curling up and then dissolving lazily into the chilly winter air. The distant beat of music from the living room, dulled to a feeble thump by the Insulating Charm, doesn’t quite break the sleepy silence. 

Remus can’t remember whose idea it was to smoke the mallowsweet picked from Sirius’ garden, but its pungent smell pleasantly prickles his nose and sharpens his mind. 

James’ stag party went very well, Remus thinks – the food everyone brought was good, Caradoc gave him a handjob in the bathroom and he reciprocated, no one mentioned Voldemort, and as soon as Peter started to talk about Order meetings, Sirius yelled “ _Firewhiskey shots!_ ” and drunken cheerfulness followed. 

Yes, poor Frank ended up with his shoes hung on the kitchen chandelier, and there was that juvenile moment where Peter charmed smelly socks from the laundry basket to float and bounce along everyone’s head screaming “ _Got you!_ ”, but overall the night was a success. Remus poured so many beers and mixed so many cocktails, he might as well put “bartending experience” on his scarce resumè by now – and stole so many glances at Sirius, he almost believes he could be a decent spy. Which is a skill that might come in handy soon enough. 

“Come back inside, Moony!” Sirius’ voice comes through muffled and warped by the Charm. “Dearborn Flooed home, no need to hide anymore!”

Remus groans and sighs, glad that Sirius can’t see the embarrassment written on his red face. Of course he had to notice them sneaking upstairs, and of course he has to take the piss now; no matter how discreet he tries to be with his hook-ups, Sirius always seems to find him out. 

“I’m smoking!” Remus yells. 

“It’s _my_ house, you know you can smoke inside!” 

As soon as he walks through the balcony door, he recognises the familiar drum of Roxy Music, but the party seems over – there’s a huge dark spot on the rug, the chairs are messily piled up in a corner, a crumpled robe lies on the wooden floor, a few books have fallen off from their shelves, a corner of the Rebel Without a Cause poster is detached from the wall, and a string of empty bottles, glasses, cups, and leftover food are scattered on the table. 

But most of all there’s Sirius in the middle of the room, boots and jumper discarded, not quite dancing but swaying back and forth to the rhythm of music, as if the living room was a stage and Remus was his only audience left. 

“Where are James and Pete?” Remus asks, taking a drag from his cigarette in a vain attempt to distract himself from the unselfconscious, brash way Sirius holds himself, black hair falling messily around his jaw, smudged eyeliner framing his grey eyes, his black Clash t-shirt stretching over his broad shoulders. Once Remus read that very tall people have a high center of gravity and they’re more likely to lose balance and fall, but Sirius doesn’t seem to carry any awkwardness in his long limbs, moving with a slow, easy confidence. 

“They’re in the guest room, Prongs passed out on the bed, Wormtail sleeping inside a shoebox – I didn’t think he could snore as a rat, but apparently he does, it’s impressive,” Sirius replies, eyes half-closed and socked feet turning on the spot. “It’s just me and you, Moony.” A low chuckle and the hint of a smile follow his words, like there’s danger in being just Remus and Sirius, alone together. 

Sirius starts humming the lyrics, _Words don't express my meaning, notes could not spell out the score_ , arms stretched out like he’s in a club and he wants to show off, except there’s only Remus here, utterly mesmerized but rooted to his spot in the corner, back against the wall, smoking so that his hands aren’t tempted to reach out and do what he wants the most. To tuck Sirius’ hair behind his ears, or grab Sirius by his biceps and _touch_ the smooth warm skin under his fingertips, or hide his face in the crook of Sirius’ neck and breathe him in, just for a moment.

But Remus is used to being an audience and so he just stares – he could spend a lifetime staring at Sirius, and sometimes he believes he will, stuck forever in this unrelenting crush rooted in friendship and always longing for more. 

“Come here, Moony, don’t stand there by yourself.” Sirius beckons him with both his arms stretched out to him, but Remus stumps his cigarette, lights up another and smokes and smokes and smokes, pretending he’s too cool to goof around with Sirius when it’s actually the other way around. 

Sirius pouts and fixes him with a knowing look. “A little bird told me that Caradoc fancies you… You know, you shouldn’t lead him on, poor bloke…” 

“I did no such thing, you tosser.” Remus protests. “And I do like him, he’s funny and fit and kind...” _But he’s not you,_ his brain adds, so he shuts up and waves the smoke away from his face. 

Sirius laughs as if Remus just said something incredibly funny – maybe he’s just happy-drunk. “Come here, give me that fag.”

“Go smoke your own,” Remus replies, not unkindly. His friends and their unfortunate habit of bumming cigarettes. 

The song slowly fades into the soothing beat of _Satellite of Love_ by Lou Reed, and Sirius settles into a new rhythm, humming and shaking his head, not unlike Padfoot shrugging off rain. “You put _my_ mallowsweet in your cigarettes, so they’re half mine now.” 

It’s a very silly argument, but Remus gives up and goes to him, offering him his half-smoked cigarette; instead of pinching it between his fingers, Sirius bows his head and grabs Remus’ wrist to steady him as he closes his mouth around the fag and inhales, blinking up at Remus, thumb stroking his pulse point, and then he slowly rises back up, still holding him. 

For a heartstopping, glorious moment, Remus believes Sirius is going to kiss him, but he just blows smoke in his face and Remus’ eyes sting and he feels really fucking stupid. 

“Hmm, dance with me, Moony, don’t you like this song?” Sirius says, and he clutches a handful of Remus’ jumper around his side while their knees bump. They’ve gone out to clubs together many times, not to mention Gryffindor parties, and it’s not even that Remus dislikes dancing – albeit he’s still self-conscious about it sometimes – but doing it in a room full of people is one thing, and swaying slowly in an empty room where Lou Reed sings _Things like that drive me out of my mind_ is another. His wool jumper feels itchy and too warm, his palms clammy, and he’s quite sure he’s never moved so awkwardly in his life. He wishes he was drunker so he could cling to Sirius more shamelessly, but this is the furthest he’ll ever go, so he lays his cheek against Sirius’ shoulder and takes what he can get. 

“You know, Moony, I’m drunk enough to talk, but far less drunk than you might think,” Sirius says. 

Remus hums, but he thinks Sirius is quite a bit drunk because he’s not making much sense, and at this point Remus just wants to stay like this as long as Sirius allows him and then go to bed, have a wank and sleep. 

“So, Prongs kissed me before. When I was taking him to the guest room.”

Remus considers himself lucky since he doesn’t even stumble, but he’s powerless against the sudden sinking feeling inside his chest, and he takes a step back before he even realises it because he _must_ put some space between himself and Sirius, between himself and what Sirius just said. Fuck. _Must everything be about James_. 

A strangled “ _Oh?_ ” is all he manages to reply, eyes fixed on the dark stain on the rug that could as well have spread inside him like a curse, blackening every foolish hope he might have harboured. He’s perfectly aware it’s not the first time Sirius and James kiss – hell, he always suspected more happened but never had the nerve to straight up ask Sirius – and deep down he knows that if he played the part of the trustworthy confidante for a whole year, he can play it again. For Sirius. 

It’s not like his heart didn’t break during seventh year, when he endured Sirius’ long rants about his unrequited crush – but he survived, and he’ll survive again. It just fucking hurts, that a sweet moment must be taken away from him like this. 

“Yes, well, you see, Prongs was so drunk and high, and I think he wanted to be nice to me one last time. Maybe he got confused because I was basically carrying him to bed and thought for a moment I still fancy him or something,” Sirius goes on, apparently oblivious to Remus’ inner breakdown.

“And don’t you?” Remus asks. The bitter, sharp edge in his voice is loud and speaks far more eloquently than his words. 

“What? No, no… I told you, Moony, I got over it.” 

Remus nods, but it still feels like Sirius is digging up a hole in his chest with his bare hands and ravaging inside him. 

“But are you upset about it?” Remus goes to the table to extinguish his fag and to cast a Scourgify on a glass and pour himself a finger of Firewhiskey, because he’s not sure that’s a conversation he’s able to carry when he’s almost sober. Sirius has finally resigned himself to the fact that James wants to be with Lily and then James kisses him. _Of course_ he’s upset, who wouldn’t be upset. Hell, even Remus is upset. 

“No, it was so sloppy, and right in front of Wormtail, too...” Sirius is right behind him, close again. Damn his socks and his stupid cologne and the mallowsweet smell that now hangs on them both. “Are _you_ upset about it?” 

Remus turns so fast the side of neck almost hurts. “Of course not,” he lies, and fakes a chuckle. “Why would I be upset?” It sounds convincing to his own ears, even though lately Sirius has developed a talent for seeing through his bullshit. 

Sirius passes a hand over his face and scratches his stubbly jaw. “Remus… Fuck, you’re – I’m really not playing my cards right, am I? I’m being – doing things backwards and…” Sirius huffs. 

Only after gulping down the Firewhiskey Remus notices the slight trembling in his own hands, so he clutches his glass so tightly he fears it could shatter. 

“Your cards,” he repeats. Merlin, if Sirius decides he wants to fight for James one week before the wedding...

“Yes, I – fuck, I made you listen to me for over a year when I was crushing on Prongs and you were always there, and… When he started dating Lily, it was just the two of us together, do you remember? I felt so much better, and it started to hurt less and less… It was just me and you together and now...” He shuts up. 

Remus suddenly knows what this conversation is leading up to, and a queasy, sick wave of nausea takes hold of his stomach. Sirius is drunk, confused by the kiss and in pain because James is going to be married in a week, and maybe he fooled himself into thinking –

“I was sure it was always going to be Prongs, but he’s my brother…” Sirius adds, and his eyes are so huge and shiny that Remus must look away because he can’t bear what he’s going to hear. “I – I think it’s you. I fancy _you_.” 

Remus shakes his head and a helpless, nervous laugh escapes from his throat. He wants to throw something, but he’s the sober one and he can’t take advantage of Sirius’ pain. “Oh, Sirius, no. You don’t. You’ll get over it.” 

Sirius snaps his fingers and the music stops, the silence sudden and startling like a slap in Remus’ face. The James Dean poster crumples to the floor. 

Sirius has always been an open book, all the emotions plainly painted on his expressive face: the shock in his open mouth, the hurt in his huge eyes and then the anger that sets in the hard clench of his jaw. 

“That’s your answer,” he says. His voice is low, but Remus can hear the barely suppressed tension behind it and braces himself for the snap. “I tell you that I _love you_ and that’s your fucking answer?!”

“Sirius, please, you’re drunk and confused because James kissed you and you don’t know if you still love him and you convinced yourself you want me but...” Remus is pleading, and he hopes Sirius will listen because this conversation is hurting them both and the last thing he wants is for Sirius to say or do things he’ll regret tomorrow. “I think you need a good night’s sleep and –”

“Well, isn’t it fucking brilliant when you get told how you feel by your best friend whom you love but who doesn’t believe a word you say and dismisses you like you’re a stupid child,” Sirius spats. 

“I’m sorry –” Remus starts, but Sirius cuts him off.

“You know, at least Prongs had the decency to let me down gently.” 

They’re both silent for a moment. 

“I am going to sleep, just like you want,” Sirius says, at last. His voice is rough and thick with bitterness. “Oh, I shut down the Floo, so you and your arseholery are sleeping on the couch.”

And with that he stomps upstairs, suddenly loud even in his socks. A door bangs shut. 

Remus stands there, rooted to the spot, for a few moments, as if he’s just been Stunned with a few well-placed words instead of magic. 

Under some sort of dumbfounded daze, he toes off his shoes, Transfigures his jumper and jeans into something soft and vaguely resembling pyjamas and Vanishes the candles. He sits on the sofa, alone in silence and darkness, his mind stumbling around Sirius’ words. It feels like a new step in the staircase he’s been climbing all his life, and now he can’t make any sense of it. 

_I love you_ , Sirius said, but he also said that Remus dismissed him like a stupid child and told him how he feels. He understands how much it hurts when adults try to explain how you feel because they know better thanks to – what? Their wisdom? Their experience? But Remus has none of those, no more than Sirius, at least. 

He’s never fancied anyone but Sirius.No one has ever said I love you to him except his parents. 

_At least Prongs let me down gently._ Fuck. A wave of regret crashes on him at once, because no matter how Sirius truly feels about him, Remus laughed in his face and told him he’ll outgrow his crush and that’s it. 

“Ow!” Something soft and fuzzy falls on his head; a blanket. 

Sirius must be angry and hurt and yet he still sent him a blanket, and the gesture fills him with a tender yearning. Even if Sirius doesn’t truly love him, he doesn’t deserve this cold treatment – but what if he does love him? What if Sirius reconciled with the fact that James doesn’t see him that way and now he truly wants Remus? 

He grabs a handful of wool between his fists and brings it to his nose, but it doesn’t smell of Sirius, it’s just itchy and rough against his skin. 

He clutches the blanket like a shield and goes to the stairs, the tip of his wand casting a cold blue light on the room and the steps he climbs. Upstairs, the only light in the hallway comes from Sirius’ room, the door left ajar like an unspoken invitation, and if Remus’ steps are silent on the floorboards, his heart beats so loudly that he’s afraid Sirius might hear him before he sees him, might understand him before he speaks. 

Sirius is sitting on the bed, propped against the pillows, under the covers, wand still in his hand, and he looks up as soon as Remus peeks inside the room. He doesn’t say a word, just blinks up at him, the corners of his lovely mouth downturned in a sad line. 

“You’re not sleeping,” Remus starts, but it’s such a stupid thing to say that the next words tumble out of his mouth before he even realises it. “I’m sorry for how I reacted, if I could take it back, I would, I wasn’t thinking...”

Sirius sighs and nods. “Alright. Forgiven,” he simply says, and then he offers a small, sad smile. “I drank a Hangover potion, by the way. Still love you. But I know you don’t believe me.”

Remus just closes his eyes, the knot in his throat tightening hope and caution together. “Sirius,” he says, and he takes a step forward, but Sirius cuts him off.

“No, I understand you, Moony, really.” Sirius huffs, and then he airily chuckles. “It’s my fault… I’ve complained about Prongs so many times, I told you _everything,_ from when we kissed to how jealous I was of Lily, and I know what you’re thinking. That you’re second best and I’m settling and I’m confused and replacing one friend with another. And it was fucking stupid to start the conversation by telling you that Prongs kissed me, but I got so jealous after your thing with Dearborn, and besides, I always tell you everything, you know? I don’t have secrets from you. And somehow I convinced myself that you liked me back, but maybe it was just wishful thinking… was it?” 

Sirius’ eyes are huge and expectant, and, Merlin, he’s always had this gift of making Remus feel like the centre of the entire universe whenever he has his complete attention, and it’s thrilling, it’s exhilarating. He wonders how it could be, to be loved by him, and if he’s brave enough to let himself have it. He tries. 

“It wasn’t, it wasn’t wishful thinking,” he manages to say. “I don’t _want you to get over it_.” This new feeling sits strange on his tongue, like a spell he just hasn’t mastered yet, and his cheeks are hot and his palms clammy, but Sirius offers a smile that looks like his real smile and his eyes sparkle with something fiery and sweet at the same time.

“I knew it,” he says, and when he pats the quilt, Remus goes to sit next to him on the bed, fingers playing with a loose thread in his blanket. “I just want you to believe me, Moony. My favourite thing in the world is you, you and me.” He says it like it’s simple, like there isn’t the loud presence of James between them, and Remus’ low-self esteem, and a war, and like they’re not both confused kids who cling to each other when everything else is falling apart. Maybe it is that simple. 

Sirius looks so impossibly handsome, flushed and smiling in the warm candlelight, and their hands find each other above the covers. 

Remus leans in, and all it takes to believe Sirius is a simple kiss, a shared breath, a dazed smile, and when Remus licks Sirius’ lips and gets under the covers, he believes other things, too, that he’s wanted the way he wants, needed the way he needs. 

“Moony, do you think –” Sirius purrs against the tender skin of Remus’ neck and Remus just moans, an embarrassing sound he’s too worked up to be embarrassed of. “Do you think you’re the kind of bloke that shags two different people on the same night? That thing with Dearborn made me so jealous...” 

Remus laughs and slips his hand under Sirius’ shirt, skin warm and smooth against his palm. He’s so happy and light-headed and he can’t believe how he almost fucked everything up. “Oh, yes, I am definitely that kind of bloke.”

Sirius’ smile is blinding and smug in the dim light, and then he proceeds to show Remus how much he loves him. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](https://aryastark-valarmorghulis.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
